


lies our minds tell us

by zhuzhubi



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Nightmares, Post-Prison, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unreliable Narrator, but nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26523871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhuzhubi/pseuds/zhuzhubi
Summary: reader gets hurt and it's all cat's fault(or is it?)
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader
Kudos: 45





	lies our minds tell us

**Author's Note:**

> also on tumblr @zhuzhubii :)

Spencer jolts upright, his limbs trembling with the force of his nightmare as he gasps for breath. He pulls at the collar of his loose pajama shirt, runs shaking hands through his hair, checks his wrists over(and over and over) because he can’t quite convince himself that they’re not bound together, that metal cuffs aren’t digging into his skin as he forces himself not to struggle, not to fight back, not to try and get away. 

He closes his eyes and feels a hand gripping his arm, sees a man forcing him into a man-sized cage, hears that woman saying “Spencie, Spencie, Spen -”

“-cer! Spencer,” it’s (y/n)’s voice in his ears and (y/n)’s hand on his arm. He clenches his eyes tighter shut as he tries to clear his head, tries to parse out what’s real and what’s an afterimage, still not convinced that the version he _wants_ to be real is actually the real one.

The hand moves to his back and draws soothing patterns. The voice is soft and calm, speaking just over a whisper, “Your name is Dr. Spencer Reid - your PhDs are in mathematics, chemistry, and engineering. You live in DC and work in Quantico, Virginia. Your mother, Diana, moved to a memory care home twenty-one days ago. You’ve been home for sixty-three days - that’s just over two months. My name is (y/n) and we live together - we’ve been a couple for almost three years. We met when -”

“-I was…invited to give a guest lecture about handwriting analysis at George Washington University,” the words start coming out almost automatically, as if he’s said them a hundred times before (in the back of his mind, Spencer knows it’s because he has), “My…my presentation ran long and you needed the lecture hall - you were teaching the next class…”

The more he says, the clearer things get - the sheets are too soft to be the ones in prison, he can’t hear the guard pacing up and down the cell-block. He musters up the courage to blink open his eyes.

Spencer’s brain takes a moment to process what his eyes are seeing - the familiar wallpaper, the stacks of books, the smell of paper and scented laundry-detergent and the half-drunken mug of coffee on the nightstand. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, damn-near sobs at the realization that he’s safe in his apartment. That (y/n) _really is_ beside him, stroking his back and talking to him - _reminding him of who I am,_ he thinks, _reminding me that I’m not an Inmate anymore._

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks and it really _is_ a question. His teammates, his bureau-mandated therapist - when they ask he’s not supposed to say ‘no’ because when he does, they’ll be disappointed in him. Will think he’s refusing to ‘deal with his trauma’ just because he’s not ready to relive it right then. 

(y/n) _really is_ just giving him the option - if he says ‘no’ there will be no pointed ‘Spencer…’ There will be no ‘You know I can’t in good conscience recommend you for full reinstatement if you’re not willing to work through what happened to you’ 

Instead, there will be coffee - or tea, depending on the time - and classic novels read in a soft voice. They’ll play _Candy Land_ and _Sorry!_ because he played chess too often in prison and he’s not ready for that just yet -

He shakes his head and she lets it go.

…

_He comes to in an interview room. Emily comes in and looms over him, nearly in tears when she says, “Why, Spencer, why did you do it?” and he realizes he’s not here as a witness._

_“What?” he replies, “Why did I do_ what? _”_

_She sits down in a chair across the room - in the back of his mind he knows it’s an interrogation technique, but he’s not thinking about that right now - and frowns. She continues, “(y/n) is dead. We know you were involved. Help me out here, Spencer - tell me what happened.”_

_“What!?” he repeats as he chokes down shock, “No, you’re lying - I just saw her this -”_

_He realizes he can’t remember the last time he saw her. He realizes he can’t remember how he got here either - it reminds him a little to much of Mexico, a little too much of being drugged and framed for murder -_

_“Emily listen to me, you know I didn’t do this,” his voice nearly breaks as he says it, “If (y/n)…if she’s d-dead - it has to be Cat again, it has to be!”  
_

_“Cathrine Adams is in solitary confinement. There is no way she could have done this,” Emily replies with a stern frown._

_Spencer flounders in shock, “Emily, she was solitary last time too! That doesn’t mean she couldn’t have done this -”_

_Emily rises to her feet and orders him to turn around. When he just stares at her in shock she brushes a hand over her gun -_

_He turns around. She cuffs his hands behind his back and rattles off, “Spencer Reid, you’re being charged with the murder of (y/n) (y/l/n). You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford to hire a lawyer, one will be appointed for you…”_

…

Spencer’s just settled into his desk at work when he gets the call.

“Hi, is there a Mr. Spencer Reid available that I can talk to?” a woman’s voice crackles through the phone.

“It’s Dr. Reid, but yeah that’s me - may I ask who I’m speaking to?”

“My name is Clara - I’m a nurse at Georgetown University Hospital. (y/n) (y/l/n) -”

“What happened to her?” he cuts off the nurse, bolting to his feet and slinging his satchel back over his shoulder, already striding towards Emily’s office.

“Well, there’s been an accident -”

He interrupts the nurse again, barely even processing what she said. “I’m on my way,” he shoots out before hanging up, pushing down the panic - he already _knows_ what happened, he doesn’t need to hear her say it.

He pushes his way into Emily’s office, letting the door slam against the wall in his haste. Emily jumps and looks up at him, rushing towards him and trying to get him to sit down once she notices his demeanor. Spencer pushes her hands away, his words a jumbled mess as he tries to get them out, “Emily. It-it’s Cat - she got to (y/n). We have to…we have to open an…an investigation -”

“Spencer - Spencer look at me,” he digs his hands into his eyes until they clear, knowing he has to keep it together if he wants Emily to listen to him, “What are you talking about? What happened?”

He tries to collect his racing thoughts, managing to get out, “Cat-Catherine Adams…she - (y/n)’s in the hospital -”

“Spencer, let’s think about this for a minute,” Emily continues with none of the urgency he needs, “Cat’s in solitary confinement -”

And then he knows Emily’s not on his side anymore. He worries at the strap of his satchel, pacing around as he mumbles “No, no, no!” before he can’t take it anymore and storms out of the room, making a beeline for the stairs because he doesn’t have the patience to wait for the elevator. 

He hears a chorus of alarmed “Spencer!” as he hurries through the bullpen, but he ignores it. He needs to get to (y/n) and he doesn’t have time to explain -

Someone appears at his side when he’s halfway down the stairs - he realizes it’s Luke and turns to brush past him, to shout at him to _get out of the way_ -

“I’m not trying to stop you,” Luke placates in a low voice, “I’m not trying to stop you, I just want to drive you to the hospital, okay?. You took the metro to work, right? You’ll get there faster if you let me drive you.”

Spencer’s suspicious at first, but Luke’s proposal certainly seems to make sense - he _did_ the metro to work and driving will be much quicker, he’ll get to see (y/n) sooner -

His voice doesn’t seem to be working for some reason so he just nods, continuing down the stairs and beckoning for Luke to follow.

…

He can’t get out of the car fast enough - he’s pushing open the door with shaking hands and striding towards the Emergency Room on unsteady legs. Luke is hot on his heels as he heads straight for the check-in area. The nurse looks up at him and he tries to speak but his voice still isn’t working and -

“We’re looking for (y/n) (y/l/n)? We were told she’s a patient here?” Luke asks once it’s clear that Spencer can’t.

The nurse just gives him a look and replies, “I can’t confirm or deny that we have a patient by that name -”

“Spencer Reid - I’m, um, I’m Spencer Reid. I spoke to Clara on the phone, she said (y/n) was-was in an ac-accident -” Spencer blurts out, his breath catching between words -

“Oh!” the nurse’s face lights up with recognition, “Yes, Miss (y/l/n)’s been asking for you -”

“She’s okay?” Spencer blurts out, rocking a little on his heels.

“She has a broken arm and a mild concussion, but yes - she’s alright,” the nurse replies in a gentle tone, her expression melting into concern. 

A distressed hum escapes Spencer’s lips before he can stop it and his hands come up to worry at his tie -

The nurse appears in his field of vision saying, “I promise she’s okay - I’ll take you to her so you can see for yourself, alright?”

And then he’s following her down the hall, past rooms with drawn curtains and nurses stations. She leads him to a room and gestures for him to go inside - 

(y/n) smiles at him, then furrows her brow at what must be his obvious distress - she has a purple cast on her left arm and a piece of gauze taped to her forehead. She’s fine, just like the nurse said she would be. _She’s okay she’s okay she’s okay -_

She’s standing and walking over to him, holding her gown shut in the back with her non-casted hand, leading him to the chair in the corner and sitting down in the other one one that he’s sure is meant for the doctors and nurses. She takes his hands in hers and thumbs circles over the backs, letting him feel the warmth of her palms under his, waiting for his brain to come back around. 

“I thought…I-I thought…,” Spencer trails off, sucking in a shaky breath as his mind races through the sequence of events - he was so sure that it was Cat, that he would arrive to somber eyes and pitying faces, to unfamiliar voices telling him, ‘I’m so sorry, but she’s gone.’

(y/n) brushes at his cheek and Spencer realizes he’s been crying - it’s what triggers him to finally, _finally_ burst into sobs. He lunges forwards to pull her into a hug, tucking his chin into the crook of her neck and cradling the back of her head with his palm. She soothes patterns over her back just like she always does, hums because she knows he likes the vibrations, mumbles “it’s okay, it’s okay - I’m okay” every once in a while.


End file.
